


Part Of Me Wanna Do Stupid S*** (Gotta Admit, I'm A Hypocrite)

by Itssilverbrich



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bee Toby Smith | Tubbo, Dragonza, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Musical Manipulation, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Shapeshifter Technoblade, Shapeshifter Wilbur Soot, Some characters are here only in spirit, Starboy Tommyinnit, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, first off lemme say, my bad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itssilverbrich/pseuds/Itssilverbrich
Summary: Technoblade is a known killer of kings.Wilbur Soot wants control of a kingdom.They are twins, their shifting bodies the only thing keeping them from being identical.These contradictions can not stand.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Floris | Fundy & Jschlatt, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Zak Ahmed & Technoblade
Comments: 7
Kudos: 103





	Part Of Me Wanna Do Stupid S*** (Gotta Admit, I'm A Hypocrite)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *reaches into a bowl of canon characterizations and interactions and headcanons and pulls them out and tosses them at random at a google doc*

Techno’s first mistake was trusting. Techno should have known his twin better than that. Should have been  _ smarter _ .    
  
Let me tell you a story.   
  
Techno was a traveller, hired to fight or battling in competitions, living off the land like his adopted father had taught him and his other brothers.    
He was known as a killer, a survivor of the fallen Arctic Empire, the son of the Angel of Death, as the man who left offerings to the Blood God in his wake, a man who, when the demons in his soul called for blood, he supplied it. A weapon as likely to turn on you as it was to help you.    
Tommy knew him as his nerdy but strong older brother and so suggested his help.   
  
Wilbur and Tommy found him in a tavern, long, curly, pink hair and red eyes, tusks slightly poking out, arm wrestling a man made of diamond.    
Wilbur beamed and adjusted his own looks, his eyes leaning more towards red, hair curling, tusks sprouting, as he ran over.   
The bar went quiet as they approached Techno for two main reasons.    
After all, two exiled rebels walking over to a creature of violence was something of major significance.    
“Techno!” Wilbur exclaimed, throwing up his arms in joy, his brown coat sleeves sagging down to reveal his long but fingerless gloves.    
“Wilbur.” Techno turns away from the struggling blue man. He slams his opponent's arm down and stands.    
“Tommy!” the blond interjects, beaming up at his two older brothers. Techno huffs and Wilbur laughs.    
“I’m assuming this isn’t just a social call, unless some rumors aren’t true,” Techno snorts at his twin, who only looks sheepish, before motioning to the circular table that was empty besides the pouting diamond man. “Let’s get a drink before we talk, I believe my friend Skeppy here is buying?”   
Skeppy, the diamond man, sighs and stands, walking over to the bartender, muttering over how 60 wins was clearly just luck and meant nothing. Techno turns his cold gaze over the tavern, the residents turning back to their own conversations.    
Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno sit down.    
“What’s the issue?” Techno asked, leaning forward.    
“Well, as you know, we objected to some new rulings in  Dismp and, well, we got exiled!” Wilbur chuckled, like it was a bad joke, like he hadn’t cried for weeks over losing his home, his land, his son.    
“We’ve joined this group, they made Wilbur the leader, and we’re gonna overthrow King Schlatt together!” Tommy whispered, well, tried to, excitedly. “We wanted your help since you’re the strongest guy we know.”    
The diamond man walked over, holding four mugs, placing three at the table before walking off with his own cup.    
Techno nodded his thanks to Skeppy, the two younger men wrapping their chilly hands around the slightly warm mugs of cider. Techno downed his in one drink, slamming the cup down.   
Oh, what was Techno to do? He actually had been getting bored of the lull between battles and the voices were getting antsy…...   
“You’re lucky you’re my brothers,” Techno sighed, shaking his head at them. “Alright, what do you need help with exactly?”   
  
  


The revolution was an unforgiving and tireless taskmaster but Techno found himself enjoying the grind, enjoying the cold nights hiding from those who would kill him and his comrades on sight, overseeing Tommy meeting up with his little spy friend.    
He did wonder what their plan was after this though. He assumed they were anti-government, considering Dismp’s history of tyrants. He’d have to corner Wilbur to get that later.   
Techno stuck mostly to a more piglike appearance, feeling the intimidation may help later. Wilbur, on the other hand, leaned more into a humanoid appearance but little bits of fox and pig showed up at times, like in a smile or a laugh.    
The benefits of being a shapeshifter, Techno supposed.    
  


“Wilbur,” Techno called as he walked towards the Rebellion leader, his twin slowing to a stop. “Can we talk?”   
Wilbur seemed surprised but nodded, heading off to a little stone room in the wall.   
“What’s up?” Wilbur asked, his orange tinted pig tail twitching in the presence of his twin. Techno flexed his five fingers.    
“I want to know your plan for after this. The others, they talk about setting up a government but,” Techno shifted but kept his eyes trained on his twin. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially if the leader is you.”   
Something about Wilbur shifts. And he doesn’t mean physically.    
“What do you mean by that, Technoblade?” his twin says and, wow, something has happened, huh? Techno doesn’t have the energy or time to dig into it so he just raises his hands in surrender. Wilbur’s trauma is his own and if he deems fit to tell Techno, he will.   
“You know my feelings towards government, Wilbur, especially with monarchy,” Techno lowered his arms. “I just….”   
He didn’t know how to say it but he didn’t have to, the tension in Wilbur immediately replaced with the sympathy his twin gave everyone.   
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” WIlbur quoted, tilting his head. “Techno, I get it. You’re  _ scared _ . You’re scared and that’s okay!”   
  
Techno is smart. The Blade knows many ways of battling. But the battle of the mind? He is simply, woefully unprepared. But then again, who expects their own brother, their twin, to lie and manipulate them?   
  
Wilbur is close, he’s circling Techno until they’ve swapped positions, Wilbur blocking the door, his body language as open as always, weaponized to make Techno trust him.    
“But I promise you, whoever is chosen as the nation’s leader, whoever is in charge, they won’t succumb to the power, you wanna know why?”    
“Why, Wilbur?” Techno relented.   
“Because you’ll be here,” Wilbur beams, trench coat swishing against the floor as he gripped Techno by the cloak. “Who would dare to even consider being a tyrant in your presence? The Mighty Blade, ensuring the security of Dismp. I was going to ask you formally but now is as good a time as any.”   
Stay? In the Dismp Kingdom? Techno hadn’t considered it, already prepared to move on once his brothers no longer needed his help.    
But it would be nice, to stay, to be a protector instead of an assassin. It would be nice to see his family again, be a part of it again.    
Wilbur whispers this to him in the small side room, over a plate of freshly cooked potatoes, on the dark nights where their fiery roots leave them colder than their more adjusted companions.

Wilbur offers Technoblade something he had never considered even possible; peace. 

Looking back on that promise, on the crazed look in Wilbur’s eyes, on the possessive grip on Techno’s shoulders, the warrior should have known better.    
  
The final battle is disappointing, the ruler, Schlatt, betrayed and heartbroken, cursed Wilbur out as apprentice, the spy that was known, and son, the spy who was hidden, and consort, the one who left, watched him die.    
Techno felt pity for the man, for this monster of a ruler who truly seemed to have trusted those who were only staring as he wasted away.    
  
No one was surprised when Wilbur was declared the new king.    
Techno watched as his twin accepted the role with humility and dignity, his long pig tail flicking behind as he flushed at the praise others lavished upon him. Fundy, his nephew, pulled Wilbur into a hug, the man shushing the kitsune like a child, running fingers through his vibrant orange fur.    
  
The ending was perfect, all the loose ends tied up, all the heroes gifted their rewards. Tommy reunited with Tubbo, Wilbur with a position of power and the heart of gold to not abuse it, Fundy finally respected, Eret taken back in from an act of betrayal no one really explained to Techno, Nikki with her freedom, Quackity given back his agency, Techno with promises of friendship and a farm to call his own.    
  
A farm, and an axe. Techno crafted it himself the night before the final battle, forgein words tumbling off his tongue onto the dark edge of netherite. He called it Kingslayer, a recommendation by the voices murmuring at to prepare, prepare, always prepare.    
He made it and hid it away. It was only for those of the lowest caliber, those who were given power by the people and then abused it. Techno made it not entirely certain what king it would be used on.   
Kingslayer promised a swift but painful death, the tyrant’s head cleanly cut off and instantly cauterized before any blood was spilt.    
He sharpened it once before putting it away, the magic on it lighting up the room he hung it in.    
Tommy asked about it once, only once, and Techno told him it was a precaution.    
Kingslayer would be used, not on Wilbur.    
  
If anyone could resist the siren call of the throne, it would be Technoblade’s twin, Wilbur Soot, a siren in his own right.    
  
Techno relaxed, let down his guard, called their father to come and visit or stay, whatever.    
  
And, of course, that’s the exact moment things go wrong.    
  
There’s a saying.    
Those don’t die a hero, live long enough to be a villain.    
Wilbur still draws breath, still lives.    
  
Wilbur is the country’s hero.   
  
It starts small, a suggestion of walls, something to protect the weak and unstable kingdom from those who might wish it harm, followers of Schlatt or the initial ruler that the satyr had swindled the land away from, a man named Dream who some claimed was likened to a god in terms of power.   
  
Techno, to be honest, assisted in the creation of said walls. Wilbur made them sound logical. Wilbur made them sound good.    
No one considered this was Wilbur making sure they stayed under  _ his  _ rule, not the revenge of a dead man or the power of a hollow god.    
Then Wilbur started humming, his siren song, his shapeshifting melody getting under the skin of those who heard it.    
Tubbo wanted respect. Fundy wanted recognition. Quackity wanted strength. Tommy wanted power.    
Wilbur’s song said  _ someone is in your way.  _ His song said  _ you are not safe until you find them.  _   
The citizens turned cold and calloused, the word Traitor on every lip, accusations and harsh words on every tongue.    
  
Techno heard the song as well, a gentle crooning that reminded him of him and Wilbur’s birth parents, kind souls torn to shreds by those claiming that it was justice. Orphans making orphans for the sake of revenge, hiding under the approval of the government.    
The song sang  _ they will hunt you.  _ He hummed back  _ they always will _ . The song trilled  _ they will betray you.  _ He called back  _ I already know.  _   
  
Wilbur’s song was a call to violence, to paranoia, to madness.    
Wilbur’s song was already in Techno’s veins, in the whispers of his own personal greek choir.    
  
Little battles, little wars, Wilbur’s cabinets of advisors, a group of broken men and traumatized children, started to tear itself apart. Insults, possessions, old wounds opened and barred to glistening teeth.    
Through it all, there stood Wilbur, wings so remnant of their father on his back, offering guidance and assurance.    
His melody gave them an itch and his chorus gave them the cure.    
_ You can trust me,  _ he promised, digging his own fangs into his son, his brother, his friends.  _ You can only trust me.  _ _   
_ _   
_ But Techno turned a blind eye because, no, not Wilbur, surely not Wilbur, absolute power corrupts but Wilbur wouldn’t  _ use  _ Techno’s strength, his trust as a stepping stone to the throne, right?   
  
_ I need your help,  _ Wilbur called and, like always, Techno came running.    
  
The castle was grand, grander than any other building in the capital of L’Manberg, a remnant of Schlatt’s brief but brutal reign.    
  
A small sign of the disease his brother had fallen to.    
The guards trembled as he walked past, Techno’s long pink braid trailing messily behind him.   
  
Normally, he’d ask Wilbur or Phil to do it for him if they were around. Wilbur had been busy.    
His features softened from the hardened boar like glare into the cool but less threatening copy of Wilbur’s own face, tusks jutting out in an underbite.    
A small circuit of anxiety rippled through him as he walked past the large empty halls, all the terrifying dominating paintings of Schlatt replaced with heroic or straight up angelic swirls of paint making up a Wilbur Techno didn’t know.    
  
Wilbur was a trickster, a madlad. Yes, the man could grow, could grow fully into the leader Techno had always seen, into the hero he had become.    
But Wilbur was no angel.    
Techno would dare to say the only angel in the family was Phil.   
Though he wasn’t sure if an angel of death counted.    
  
As he approached the throne room, he heard the gentle hums, the cascading lullabies of a guitar.    
Some stupid, foolish part of Technoblade relaxed.    
  
When he steps in the hall, he sees a room filled with tense and anxious figures. The only relaxed person is his twin, Wilbur, reclining on a golden throne, draped in rich reds and blues as he strums a simple guitar.    
“Wilbur.” Techno nods at the king. Even for Wilbur, he would not bow.    
“Techno! It is so good to see you!” Wilbur’s smile was too bright, too benevolent, too much light. “I need you to do me a favor.”    
For his family, Techno would burn the world with a smile. For Wilbur, he’d probably burn himself with it.    
This thought slips his mind the minute Wilbur presses a sword in his hands.   
  
“I’ve been trying to prevent traitors, you know, considering this country’s history.” Wilbur explained, a white train following him as he led Techno away.    
Techno did not know this history, couldn’t bring himself to really focus on it but he nodded, knowing it was important.    
“And I found one right inside our borders.”   
  
Tommy’s furious yet terrified eyes frooze Techno into place, the boy who seemed to be made of stars still glowing bright. Tommy was practically shivering, bloodied hands gripping iron bars.   
  
“Wilbur?” Techno questioned, stepping fully into the dark room. “What’s going on here?”   
“What’s going on,” and with that, Wilbur sneers, finally taking off his halo as he stakes the dark room. “Was that Tommy was going to undermine  _ my  _ rule. But I caught him, him and his stupid tubbee too. Should have seen it sooner.”   
Tommy snarled back at Wilbur, tears streaming down his face, the star like freckles on his face fading from hurt blue to rage filled red to a frightened purple. Tubbo was in the small room as well, curled up, thin buggy wings buzzing every now and then.    
It was a sight that shouldn’t happen. It was a sight that shouldn’t be added to by Wilbur turning to him with a smile that seemed sharper than it should.    
Techno knew this. Techno had to be smart about this. Techno had no idea what to do.   
“I need you to kill them, Techno,” Wilbur says in a sugary sweet tone that reminds Techno of golden thrones and bloody hands reaching upwards. “I need to make sure this place I fought so hard for is safe. No traitors.”    
The bars between Techno and Tommy and Tubbo opens and Wilbur pushes him in with a gentle shove. Techno stumbles in, finding it to be more of a shallow pit than a jail.    
  
What is Technoblade? Is he a pig? Is he a man? Is he a shapeshifter? Is he a person? Is he a weapon? Is he a god? Is he a king?   
Techno doesn’t know. Techno has no clue. All Techno knows is he is Technoblade and he is not his twin’s executioner.    
  
Tommy gasps out and reels back as the blade in Techno’s hand carves two thin lines on his cheeks, the stars flashing a pained white before being lost to the flow of blood.   
Tubbo cries as an equally quick slash punctures one of his weak wings.    
  
Both boys cower in the corner and Techno swallows down the anxiety in his throat, feeling Wilbur’s eyes on him, hoping that's enough, praying that's enough.   
“I’m not an executioner.” Techno says but he looks at Tommy as he says it and the clearly angry boy relaxes, mostly out of confusion.    
Techno glances back at Wilbur, who only stares at him.    
  
Finally, finally, Wilbur hums and nods, stepping back, letting Techno out. He claps once and two guards rush in.    
“Take them to the outskirts,” Wilbur says coolily. “If they try to return, shoot them.”   
“No!” Tommy cries out at last, jumping up. “Wilbur, no, please, don’t kick me out again, I didn’t do anything, please, Wilbur, Wilby, I’m not a traitor, don’t make me leave again-”   
  
Techno does nothing, can do nothing, as Tommy is dragged out, kicking and crying and screaming, Tubbo numbly and blankly dragged behind.    
He glances at his twin, tries to see if Wilbur feels anything for this pitiful display. Wilbur isn’t even paying attention, taking the sword from Techno’s hand and cleaning the slight blood off with an already stained rag.   
  
Techno left the capital, sending a neatly written letter to a distant land. Their father would have had to hear about this.    
Phil was a dragon, with mighty feathery wings and a crown of bone growing out of his head that he hid under a hat. Phil was wise and brave and ten times more bloodthirsty than Techno himself. He would understand.    
  
Tommy hated him and Tubbo was terrified but that would have to do for now because Techno was falling apart.    
His brother was using him, was using him for physical threats, was using him for battle materials, had used him as a stepping stone to a bloody throne.    
Wilbur had used Techno and who knows who else to become a tyrant.    
  
Wilbur used him as a weapon.    
  
**_Wilbur used him as a weapon._ **   
  
  
Kingslayer is waiting for him, Chat murmuring a mixture of assurances and condolences, all with an undercut of excitement at the prospect of killing.    
His chat was something Techno himself didn’t understand. They knew things he didn’t, warned him of threats he hadn’t known yet.   
They had been just in denial as he had been, reminding themselves and Techno of Wilbur’s golden heart underneath his sooty coat.    
They were just as furious about being used and were ten times more eager to draw blood.    
  
_ TECH-NO BLADE _ _   
_ _ TECH-NO BLADE _ _   
_ _ BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD _ _   
_ _ BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD _

_ TECH-NO BLADE _ _   
_ _ E _ _   
_ _ BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD _ _   
_ _   
_ _   
_ He had the weapons. He had the info. He had the back-up plan. But the question was…. Could he do it? Could Techno really kill Wilbur?   
Tommy would hate him even more, his name would be smeared in his own twin’s blood, his father could either hate him or hate his twin and he wasn’t sure if he could either.    
  
The chat screams at him of the people Wilbur has already hurt, of polite Niki going silent, of smart Fundy cowering, of Tommy staring at his scarred face in the mirror, of Tubbo hesitating before even asking for dinner.    
They scream to him of past tyrants, of Squid Kid, of Schlatt, of kings and queens and everything in between in crowns, all looking down at Techno, at people like him, and condemning them.   
For Wilbur to become that, he could not be permitted to continue.    
Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely.    
  
Philza comes the day of Techno’s planned attack, his one man raid against the castle.   
“I could come with,” Philza said. “Maybe I could reason with Wilbur.”   
They both stare at each other before laughing, something dry and sorrowful.    
Philza already had.    
Philza had written letters, sent gifts, used his many, many connections to reach out to his elder son.    
  
He had gotten an assassin in return.    
  
It was both the smartest and dumbest move Wilbur could have done. If it had succeeded, Wilbur would not have to fear Phil’s wrath and perhaps escaped Techno’s. Techno was not so foolish as to attack someone who could indirectly beat a man known as the Angel of Death.    
But it had failed and only Techno’s plea to keep Tommy and Tubbo out of the way saved him from the fire of a dragon.    
  
Ï just…. Don’t know where I went wrong.” Philza murmured, shaking his head.    
“I don’t think it’s anything you did,” Techno reassured. “Me and Wilbur both are desperate for some kind of control. I went with violence against any and all those who could harm people like me, he went with becoming said people.”   
“You’re going to kill him? Straight away?” Philza asks and sorrow and heartbreak slips into his voice.    
  
Just as Wilbur is Techno’s twin, Wilbur is Philza’s son. No good father wishes for their son’s demise.    
  
“Not if he steps down.” Techno hums in reply, pressing the tip of a finger to the blade of Kingslayer. It cuts and burns in one prick of pain.    
He stands, swinging the axe onto his back. He turns to his father.    
“I should be back before nightfall. If I’m not, head to these coordinates and assume I’m dead,” Techno hands him a compass, glowing with the magic of a lodestone. “But this is just a precaution. I have no intentions of dying. Stay safe, all three of you, okay?”   
  
Techno parts with a hug from Phil, ruffling a still angry but concerned Tommy and a nod to the quiet and clearly somehow more in the know Tubbo.    
  
His welcome is less warm than when he was summoned, no guitar music, no nervous but polite guards. All are afraid of what his coming means.   
  
The throne room swings open and Wilbur stands on the throne, surrounded by armed and terrified men.    
Each holds an axe, shimmering with magic and yet all pale in comparison once Techno pulls out Kingslayer.    
  
“Techno!” Wilbur greets cheerfully, as if he wasn’t wielding a weapon that was certainly meant for Techno’s neck. “What brings you here? I don’t remember asking for your attendance.”   
“I’m not a dog you can summon and send away at will, Wilbur,” Techno says in an almost causal manner. “I don’t obey tyrants.”   
“And yet… I haven’t seen Tommy and Tubbo in quite some time, Techno,” Wilbur sighs and shakes his head. “You did it so brutally too.”   
The resolve of the men around him hardens at the words and Techno realizes no one is probably aware that the two boys were banished, not killed.    
“A mistake I plan to make up for, even if it is never truly forgiven,” Techno decides to let them believe whatever they want of their fate. “I only am giving you this option once, Wilbur; surrender the throne or be slain like the scum that it makes you.”   
“Hm, I choose….” Wilbur suddenly has a bow in hand and Techno barely deflects the following arrow with Kingslayer. “Make sure he doesn’t leave this palace alive!”   
  
Techno throws himself into the battle. He does not kill his attackers, he knows how such a thing could be painted, that only one here truly deserves to die and he will make that point no matter what.    
Wilbur runs away from the battle, leaving his men at Techno’s mercy. They are all unconscious or flee in a matter of minutes, Techno’s tusks growing as he follows his twin’s footprints.    
  
It’s a hunt, and Techno is determined to stay the predator, Wilbur’s crafty brain probably working on ways to flip the scales.    
  
He leaps over overturned tables, sidesteps hurled items, pushes past confused and misguided souls but he still can only see Wilbur’s white train.   
“Just make this easier on yourself and give up, your highness!” Techno called after the shapeshifting tyrant. He probably could have escaped already if he just wasn’t wearing those ridiculous clothes.    
“Make it easier to what, kill me?! I don’t think so!” Wilbur shouted out, small weak fluttering wings on his back fluffing with agitation.    
Techno gritted his teeth and forced himself forward.    
  


Wilbur may have the advantage of home turf but Techno had the advantage of  _ literally everything else _ .    
  


Wilbur slammed into the door, immediately tripping and tumbling to the ground.    
He wheeled around to find Techno towering over him, boar like tusks poking out of a mostly human face.    
He backed up, eyes darting back and forth, the Dirty Crime Boy looking to weasel himself out of the unfavorable position of corrupting ruler cornered by violent anarchist brother.    
“Techno, you can’t possibly plan to kill me!” Wilbur said, eyeing the enchanted axe by his side.    
“I told you what I would do to the next tyrant here. I asked you, specifically, not to take this position. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I told you this. You said I should stay in case the next ruler did what  _ you have been doing, Wilbur, _ ” hissed out Technoblade, aiming the blade at the other shape . “Did you think I would make an exception for you?”   
“YES!” Wilbur spat out, getting up on his knees. “I’m your brother,  _ your twin _ ! You’re supposed to be on my side, help me, not chop my head off!”   
“....I was,” Techno said softly, lowering the axe slightly. “I came here for you, you and Tommy, and I stayed because you said I could, that I should. You said I could trust you and it would be safe to do so.  _ You lied. _ ”   
The axe came back to Wilbur’s neck. Techno’s eyes were impassive despite his heated words.    
“I’m your brother,” hissed out Wilbur. “If you kill me, you’ll have to face Tommy and Phil’s judgement. You will be known as someone who has and will kill their own twin.”   
Techno stared down at Wilbur before he tilted his head in a clear show of confusion.    
  
“Didn’t you hear?” he said and went on when Wilbur said nothing to demonstrate understanding. “My brother died in the last battle for Dismp. We couldn’t find his body.”   
Techno raised Kingslayer.    
“But I just did.”   
“Techno, wait- !”   
  
The axe came down. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I Am Suffering


End file.
